We spoke on the phone at around 11pm
She was sad, no, she was depressed
My glowing ray of positive light was not herself
She spoke of herself with negative reference
"I'm not good enough this" and " I don't deserve that"
Although I cursed her out for the bullshit
Then reassured her of her overwhelming worth
When she hung up the phone, I could hear the hurt lingering in her voice
I was mad with myself for not being by her side that night
I knew that all she needed was someone to hold her close
I started to write her a poem but the words began to drown in cliche
I needed to ease her in a way that no touch nor word could achieve

4am and I sat eyes blurred, trying to translate that feeling into art.
I painted a painting but in the end it didn't provoke the reassurance I was seeking
Finally I opened up Photoshop:

For her I made this:
 
I named it "Fuckin' Perfect"
Then I passed out from exhaustion

Labels: digital paintbrush